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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528424">A Longing for Peace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soursoda/pseuds/Soursoda'>Soursoda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autistic Character, Autistic writer here, Drabble, Gay Male Character, Jewish Character, M/M, Or at least I wrote them both to be autistic, Very short/Unfinished</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:28:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soursoda/pseuds/Soursoda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a while, Adam wasn’t even sure he was capable of happiness again, which felt so foreign and odd he almost felt as though he was a stranger situated in another man’s body. Yet as he laid down beside Dwight nearby the campfire, partially resting against a log, he couldn’t help the strange sensation of fulfillment and peace. It was almost poetic, in his opinion, to find such light in extreme darkness.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dwight Fairfield/Adam Francis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Longing for Peace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to finish this but couldn't find any way to ;; Adam deserves more love and this is sort of a character study?? </p><p>Adam/Dwight ftw</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was oddly comforting to find one could still experience such warm and pleasant feelings after being dragged down into the depths of their depraved Hell, stewing alongside other survivors in countless trials of blood and death. For a while, Adam wasn’t even sure he was capable of happiness again, which felt so foreign and odd he almost felt as though he was a stranger situated in another man’s body. Yet as he laid down beside Dwight nearby the campfire, partially resting against a log, he couldn’t help the strange sensation of fulfillment and peace. It was almost poetic, in his opinion, to find such light in extreme darkness.</p><p>Dwight was looking at Adam’s palm, which was sitting in his lap, running the tip of his pointer finger along the lines that crossed along his skin. Once, in his youth, Adam read a novel on the Chinese astrology of palm reading out of boredom. It troubled him, for a couple of weeks, at the broken line that snaked besides his mount of Venus. He was terrified by the idea of his life being interrupted by some unexpected accident or illness. It was quickly forgotten as he got his hands on different books, and there was no time to mule over the possibilities of his possibly short lifespan when there was information about bird calls and the history of glasses to be learnt. </p><p>He supposed his life did end early, that day when the train derailed, and he found himself sprawling through a tear in reality and straight into the depths of what could be considered Gehinnom, as some aspects of it do align with how his rabbi described such a place. That wasn’t a very pleasant thought, though, and he didn’t feel like interrupting his rare peace of mind to explore the puzzling maze of thoughts that were about whether or not he was dead, and if he was, why he hasn’t arrived at Olam Ha-ba yet. So he flexed his fingers a little bit, not enough to get Dwight to pull away, and asked,” What are you doing?” </p><p>“Sorry, I… You… don’t have any scars- or, or- cuts on your hands,” Dwight answered after a short pause.” I was just looking- I can stop, if- if you want me to.” </p><p>“You don’t have to,” Adam replied.” But yes, that is true. I don’t have any scars or cuts. On my hands, at least.” </p><p>Dwight nodded.” Yeah, um... you really don’t.” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>They two men sat in the fine, still silence again. The campfire crackled in a manner that was oddly ill-fitting, although it was nearly impossible to pinpoint why it was so, while the inky blackness of the fog loomed as it always did, far in the distance. None of the other survivors were present, leaving them alone in a manner Adam dared to consider romantic, if anything in this sickeningly cruel realm could be deemed so. He would be completely satisfied, just sitting, although he knew Dwight was uncomfortable with prolonged periods of time without speaking. When they were outside of a trial, of course. </p><p>“You should sleep,” Adam says, interrupting the silent emptiness that settled on their shoulders.” You could find a toolbox or a medkit for your next trial. Anything helps.” </p><p>” I don’t like sleeping… here. It- ” Dwight lifted up his right hand to make a vague gesture near his ear,” I don’t like it- being inside my head. It- the bloodweb- it’s creepy and I… just can’t deal with that right now.” </p><p>Adam tapped his chin lightly with his free hand.” It is strange, isn’t it? I’m alright with it, I suppose. Before- this- I struggled with insomnia. Here, we just fall asleep when we want to. As my uncle would say, you need to make the best of a bad situation. You have to appreciate the little things.”</p><p>“I guess…” Dwight replied.” It would be nice to sleep in a bed, though. Just every now and then.” </p><p>Adam mourned the thought of living in a real apartment, far from the Entity’s reach, back home in Kingston, where he could have a bedroom with a bookshelf and a queen size bed for him to share with Dwight. They could walk to Shaare Shalom together where there were no doors and the floor was covered in sand, as such was a Sephardic tradition that dates back to the Inquisition. He could make coffee for them together in the morning, with real beans that he would grind himself and use the pour-over method for a perfect cup every morning before they rushed off to work. </p><p>That made him curious, actually.” How do you like your coffee?” </p><p>“I don’t- I’m not a fan of coffee,” Dwight replied, his frown deepening ever-so-slightly.” It’s too… bitter, I think.” </p><p>“You could add sugar and cream,” Adam said.” You have the option to make it as sweet as you want, or as bitter as you want.” </p><p>Dwight nodded.” Yeah, that’s… that’s true.”</p>
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